The Witch from Beyond the World's End
by Idrelle Miocovani
Summary: When a mysterious woman lands in the Inquisition camp at Haven, Venara Lavellan has her suspicions about the witch's origins. One way or another, she will get to the bottom of this.


**A/N:** This was written in response to a prompt from **wickedwitchofthewilds** on tumblr. She asked me to write a scene of her OC, Makenna, meeting my Inquisitor, Venara. Makenna is the protagonist of _Blood Queen,_ which can be found on A03.

 **The Witch from Beyond the World's End**

The woman came from beyond the Breach.

In all her magical studies, Venara had never encountered the possibility that _other worlds_ could exist. There was a popular theory that an infinite timelines and dimensions existed, the theory being that every choice ever made created a new timeline, with its own unique progression through time. Venara herself had witnessed the truth of her theory when Alexius had thrown her and Dorian forwards in time. And yet, even after experiencing _that_ , it had never crossed her mind that a world other than Thedas could exist as someone else's reality.

And yet that truth stood before her. Unless the woman was lying, of course. But Venara had a feeling that Makenna spoke the truth. The fact that she had kept her origin a secret for so long reinforced that truth, no matter what Cassandra and Leliana said.

The day after her revelation finally came to light, Makenna was still kept under careful watch. Not only had she lied about where she came from, but she had also concealed the fact that she was gifted with magic. About this Venara was not surprised. Makenna had demonstrated a strange way of perceiving the land and a peculiar accuracy with her bow, both of which were simply explained by the fact that she was a mage. Or a witch. Or a sorceress—whatever magic users were called in her land. "Sorceress" seemed like the correct term. Makenna carried herself with a sense of self and power that Venara never could. She knew the extent of her magic and she knew how to control it. That made her self-possessed in a way Venara, whose magic was growing in frightening, unknown and uncontrollable ways, could only envy. And she wasn't just a mage. She commanded respect and authority. It was in her diction, in her language, in the very way she moved. No matter what reasons had brought her to Thedas, Venara could tell that she had once held a position of power.

After having her weapons confiscated and put under threat of being thrown in the Chantry dungeon, it was no wonder that Makenna was so irritated at the guard Cullen had placed on her at Cassandra's bidding.

Makenna had left Haven's military compound to sit by the lake. Venara found her and her accompanying soldiers by the frozen waterfall. Makenna was huddled down in the snow, twisting her red hair between her hands as she clearly tried to behave as if her guard was completely invisible.

"You can leave," Venara said wearily as she approached.

"But Herald—"

"Protest all you like," Venara said, raising a hand to silence the soldier. "This is an order. Take it up with Commander Cullen if you want, but surely the Herald of Andraste can manage the situation herself for a couple of hours."

The guard flushed nervously. "Yes, Herald."

He saluted and gestured to the rest of the soldiers, rounding them up and tramping back up the path to Haven.

Makenna eyed her. As always, Venara felt a queasiness tugging at her. It wasn't because Makenna only had one eye; it wasn't even the intricate patch she used to cover her destroyed left eye. There was something else, something left unexplained that rose whenever Venara looked at her.

"Thank you," Makenna said in her lilting voice.

"What kind of accent is that?" Venara asked, sitting down beside her.

"What do you mean?"

"Your accent," Venara said. "Do all people speak that way, where you're from?"

Makenna clasped her hands together. "Not all. Underhill is a world beyond reckoning, stretching over a far greater mass of land than Thedas does. Not all who live there speak the same tongues, but those of us born to the courts do. There are two tongues, and we learn to speak them both." She paused. "You should be familiar with this. You speak King's Common, yet study Elven. Why do you not have an accent?"

"Because Elven is not the language of my birth," Venara said. "It is the language of my people, but much of it is lost. I have learned as much as I can from my Keeper, and now with Solas, but… Elven will never be my native language."

"Ah." Something pulled at Makenna's lips. "Sad."

Makenna rubbed her arms as if for warmth, and Venara wondered why she didn't simply cast a spell to stave off the cold. Maybe she was cautious about casting spells now that Cassandra and Leliana's suspicion had been ignited.

"You've been spending quite a lot of time with Solas," Makenna observed.

"He is knowledgeable," Venara said quickly. "Why shouldn't I?"

"I only made a comment, Venara," Makenna said. "A comment isn't an attack."

"I didn't—"

Makenna shook her head. "It's no matter. You feel something for him, I can tell."

"I do not!"

"Really? Then what's the source of these lingering gazes I keep catching, I wonder?"

Venara flushed. "It's not… He's a friend. _A mentor._ Nothing more. Besides, even if I was… interested… Oh, for the Creators' sake, we wouldn't have any time to even _think_ about something like that!"

"I don't think so," Makenna said. "You'd be surprised what feelings come to light when you think the day you're living will be your last."

Venara folded her arms. "So you've done something like this before."

"Yes. And no."

"You might as well be straightforward with me, Makenna," Venara said darkly. "Those soldiers I dispatched are just as easily summoned back."

Makenna raised an eyebrow. "Are you threatening me?"

Venara deflated. "No. No, I just… I just want to know."

"About?"

"About you."

Makenna smiled wistfully. "That's both a very broad and a very complex thing to answer," she said. "But I'll try my best."

"Why?"

"Because someone deserves to know," Makenna said softly. "And if not you, then who else?"

"Then tell me about Underhill," Venara said. "Tell me everything. Everything you can."

Makenna chuckled. "Time to turn the question on you, Herald. Why so interested?"

"Because if other worlds exist," Venara answered, "I want to know about them. I want to know what they're like. I want to know what we can learn about them. And… I want to know if they're any better than the one I live in."

Makenna shook her head. "Idealist," she muttered.

"What?!"

"You're an idealist," Makenna said. "I can understand why. Out of the protection of your clan, you finally understand how reviled you and your kind really are. Maybe they hate you for what you are, maybe they hate you for your actions… Hate is a powerful thing, Herald. For both those who hate and those who are hated. It eats away at you. I can't blame you for wanting to search for a new world, now that the possibility is open to you. Maybe it can provide the sanctuary you so desperately need, the safety and sense of home you so desperately want… But if that is what you are searching for, I can promise you that Underhill will _never_ serve you in that regard."

Venara's jaw clenched. "I don't care. Tell me about Underhill anyway."

Makenna's single emerald eye flashed. "As you wish, my Lady Herald."


End file.
